The Darkest Stain of Love
by TimelessTears
Summary: "I suppose that's the darkest stain of love: holding onto the burdens your loved ones don't think you know about." Reid knows why his mother knew what Gary Micheals was at first glance.The same way Hotch can spot abuse. M for references to rape and abuse.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

"_Suicidology isn't a perfect science, but it's uncommon for women to kill themselves so violently. For lack of a better word, they tend to choose more feminine ways to die. Men shoot themselves, jump off buildings onto pavement. Women are less messy; they . . . take pills and drown themselves."_

Ever since he had uttered those words, Hotch couldn't help but worry over his youngest agent. It had started out as a normal Reid ramble but near the end, the way he paused for just half a second and finishing in a slightly darker tone left too many implications for Hotch to let go. The case was finished, the unsub apprehended and they were back home, leaving Hotch both room and time to mull over Reid's haunting words.

If this case had brought up any bad memories . . . Hotch shook his head. Reid had been hurt emotionally far too much lately; he wasn't going to let this add on to that.

He wasn't going to let this slide.

"Reid." Hotch called out as the young man was beginning to leave after a long day of filling out paperwork. "Can I see you for a moment in my office?" The older profiler asked seriously.

Brown eyes widened with worry and Reid silently nodded his head; his fingers nervously twiddling with the strap of his messenger bag as he no doubt tried to think if he had done something to earn a reprimand. Hotch suppressed the urge to smile and the need to tell the boy he wasn't in trouble as he began walking to his office, Reid following close behind.

"Have a seat." Hotch said as he motioned toward a nearby chair. Settling in his own, he looked over a Reid. "Relax," The Unit Chief started, seeing Reid's stiff shoulders. "You're not in trouble."

"Oh." The word swooshed out in relief and Hotch saw the tension leave the other's body.

"I just want to make sure you're ok." He began, trying to tread on the subject delicately without tip-toeing around it.

"I'm fine, why?" Reid asked, tilting his head.

"This last case . . . it hit close to home, didn't it?" Hotch asked softly, staring into brown eyes. "You don't talk much about your childhood." He ended, knowing Reid would fill in what he had left unsaid.

Immediately, the tension snapped back into Reid's body and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Reid told him in a soft, dangerous voice and Hotch knew he would have to be cautious with his words. Though he didn't talk much about her, it was obvious to anyone who knew him that Reid loved his mother dearly. If Hotch even implemented she had neglected him, Reid would be on the offense. That's not what Hotch wanted.

"I know she loved you." He told the other. "But her illness made it tough didn't it? To survive?"

Reid let the room fall silent and continued to stare at him with that wary glare still etched on his features. Finally, just when Hotch was about to open his mouth, Reid spoke.

"Have you ever lived with a paranoid schizophrenic?" The question was rhetorical but Hotch answered anyway.

"No, but that doesn't mean I haven't spoken with any."

"It's not the same." Reid shook his head. "So you probably interviewed a few who agreed to do a consult or maybe talked to a victim from a past case that suffered from it. You think that makes you an expert?" He challenged his boss.

"No." Hotch answered again.

"Then why do think that my mother would, would-" Reid cut himself off, clearly too upset to even finish his statement.

"Reid," Hotch said in an even voice. "I know your mother loves you and would never harm you intentionally, but we both know that some schizophrenics can have suicidal tendencies and react violently to others, especially those suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. In the car with JJ, when you told us that women preferred less messy suicides, it sounded like you were speaking from experience. I just need to know if this case brought up any bad memories for you."

Reid held his glare a moment longer before it morphed into a weary, broken look that Hotch never wanted to see on any of his team's faces.

"You know, a lot of people think that schizophrenia robs people of their intellect. They think the disease makes a person stupid because they can't comprehend reality. That's not true. My mom's intelligence never changed; her knowledge never left her. Everything she learned and retained was still there. True, the illness handicapped and warped her ability but it was not taken from her completely. It's like a sports player that was injured: they still know the game in mind and body but they can't play." Reid confessed quietly.

On his part, Hotch had no idea where Reid was going with this but he let him go on uninterrupted, instinctively knowing everything he said held meaning in this conversation.

"My mom always knows when something's bothering me. When I try to downplay it, she always glares at me and says: 'A mother knows, Spencer.' He ended in a sad chuckle before giving Hotch the saddest look he had seen in a long time.

"But you see Hotch, that's not true. Not completely, anyway. She doesn't always know when something's wrong with me. If she did, she would have come to my high school herself and raised hell. She would have automatically known something was wrong when I had been kidnapped by Tobias, when I had been shot, infected with anthrax, and the list goes on. Essentially, she should have some instinct triggered in her to let her know something was wrong every time my life was endangered; her and every other mother out there if a 'mother's' instinct actually existed. We both know that's not true. If it was, there'd be a lot less missing-_dead_-children in the world."

He paused for a moment and took a breath before continuing.

"That doesn't mean I don't believe that that instinct is a complete myth. I know it exists, but on a much smaller scale and it doesn't just reside in mothers." He face scrunched up in frustration for a moment, as if he was unsure if he should continue, but plunged ahead after a moment of hesitance.

"Remember a few years ago when I stayed behind in Vegas to work on the Riley Jenkins case? When my mom told me about Gary Michaels, she said she knew immediately what he was when she saw him playing chess with me in the park. She told me it was a 'mother's' instinct. But, again, that's a lie, I think." He gave another pitiful chuckle and stopped talking to lick chapped lips before delivering a devastating statement that made Hotch's blood run cold and dread fill his stomach.

"That instinct is only triggered around what we, as individuals, recognize. What we ourselves have gone through."

"No." Hotch said quietly as Reid talked over him.

"It's why I can spot a bully a mile off, why JJ can see signs of a teen suicide, why _you _can tell if a suspect abuses his children simply from a look—" Again Reid hesitated but opted to keep going.

"My mom recognizes a child molester for the same reasons Morgan can."

It was a devastating sentence delivered in a soft voice that held as much power as an explosive.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Hotch managed to strangle out of his dry throat.

"So am I." Reid said dully. "She never actually mentioned it to me but her schizophrenia . . . well, let's just say the government wasn't the only thing looking to hurt her." He told Hotch with a sickly smile unsuited for his face.

"Her attacker became a hallucination." Hotch stated.

"Yes. My grandfather was an evil man." The simple sentence with that bitter smile made Hotch's heart hurt.

"Reid. . ."

"She only saw him during certain times of the month. I'm guessing those days were close to or possibly even the same days he raped her." Reid continued over him, expression never wavering. "Victims can remember the strangest things from their attacks: glancing at a calendar, the channel the television was turned to, the shape of a stain on a curtain. I can still recall with utmost clarity the color of the straw in that shack."

He tried not to think on it often but since Reid brought it up, Hotch couldn't help but remember the red numbers on the microwave blinking at him as the sound of his father's belt swooshed through the air.

He still avoided looking at the clock when it turned to7:13 A.M.

"Those were the worst attacks." Reid confessed softly. "If I didn't know better, I would say she was suffering from PTSD. Maybe she was; in any case, she only became violent when she saw him."

At Hotch's shocked look, the young profiler rushed on to explain. "Not towards me! Never towards me Hotch, I promise. She became violent towards herself."

Hotch was about to tell Reid he didn't have to speak anymore if he didn't want to, when brown eyes gained a faraway look and words slipped passed loose lips in a quiet whisper.

"Sometimes," Reid licked his dry lips again. "Sometimes before I unlock my door, I have to brace myself, because all I can see in my head is my mom huddled up in a corner, rocking back and forth as she scratches herself till she bleeds. All the while she's making this horrible noise- like a dying animal- begging him to stop." Reid's voice cracked and he quickly wiped away a stray tear. "Then I open my door and there's nothing but silence and I just feel relief." He gave a shaky sigh.

"Does that make me an awful person? For being relieved that my mother's locked up and I don't have to hear her scream anymore?" His tone was unsure and child-like, but the self-loathing was clearly heard.

"No, Reid. You are not an awful person for making sure your mother has the proper care she needs. There's no way you could have provided that for her by yourself." Hotch assured, already knowing Reid was trying to think of a way to pin the blame on himself.

Guilt does that.

"If I had just-"

"Reid. Stop." Hotch commanded, trying to stop the guilt trip his young agent was trying to board. "You took care of her for as long as you could, and I think we both know that many of those years you should have been taken in by the state."

"I know. Even then I knew that she was unfit to care for me but Hotch, by that time I knew enough to take care of _her_. I realize my living situation as a child could have been a tragedy if I was a normal kid. It's obvious I wasn't though, and I had no intention of going into the system: too many bad stories reached my ears about what happened to those kids. That, and I didn't trust where the state would put her." Reid shuddered at the thought. "Besides, I knew how to comfort her when _he _came."

"I was telling the truth when I said she never tried to hurt me. Even in delusions, schizophrenics can sometimes recognize facial structures. I've never seen what my grandfather looked like but I think it's safe to assume I didn't resemble him." He took a deep breath, the story clearly taxing him.

"My mom had a brother. He died when I was young so I don't remember him and I've never seen a picture of him either, but I must have gained some of his traits because the moment she saw me, she would stop rocking, hold out her arms and beckon me into a hug, saying: 'Daniel, Daniel, he hurt me again. Please Daniel, make it go away!'

Reid shook his head in despair as the desperate words from so long ago echoed in his head. "She called to him like he was her last resort; maybe he was. Whenever I found her in that state, I would hug her and whisper words of comfort to calm her down until I was able to clean her arms and get her into bed. She would always thank me and apologize for what dad did to me."

"He protected her, didn't he?" Hotch asked softly. It was a role every big brother took on without question. He did it when his father lost his temper with Sean and his mother when she was too injured to try and protect them

The results often left him bloodied and bruised, but it was worth it since it was him and not Sean or his mother in such a sorry state.

"I think it's safe to assume that." Reid said somewhat dryly. "Some abusers hone in on one person to take out their rage but others aren't afraid to lash out at everyone they see under their control. The relationship between survivors who suffered from the same abuser is, well, interesting is not the word I'm looking for- fascinating, I guess."

"How so?" Hotch asked as he silently thought over his relationship with his mother and brother.

"My mom and my uncle didn't stay in touch after they both moved out or my grandfather died, whichever came first. Like I said, I was really young when my uncle passed away but I know he wasn't someone in my life. I always thought it was strange: they went through hell together, why stay so estranged when they were clearly so close?" Reid wondered in such a manner that Hotch knew he had been stewing over that question for years.

'_Because then you have to look at them and realize that no matter how hard you tried, they didn't make it out unscathed. You realize you didn't protect them completely and you don't want to be reminded of that.' _Hotch thought. At least, that's the reason why he didn't make as much of an effort to see his mother or Sean. When he did see them, small actions or words would trigger memories of when his father's wrath could not be deterred.

He still sees the bruise on his mother's cheek when she gives him a sad smile.

"Perhaps the memories are too much." Was what he told the inquisitive genius instead.

"Maybe." Reid agreed quietly. "All I know is my mom's disease seemed to become worse over night after he passed. My dad, as much as I hate him for leaving, did stick around for a little while. I know he tried in the beginning to make it work. I guess I can see why he left; he was probably burnt out. Still, he could have come back. I wouldn't have been mad." Reid admitted in a tiny voice full on insecurity.

"Spencer. . ." Hotch used his first name to gain his attention. "His leaving wasn't your fault." He told him firmly, already seeing where Reid's thoughts were taking him.

"It feels like it is." Reid mumbled softly. "To be fair, they never got a divorce and he did send money every month. It wasn't the same though. Hell Hotch, I would have forgiven him if he had just stopped by every other day to make sure she was ok when I left for college."

"How did you manage to make sure she was alright while you were away?" It was something Hotch had always wondered about.

"I broke down and finally hired a nurse from an independent agency." Reid explained. "I avoided the state hired nurses for the obvious reason of my age and the independent agency was bound through a contract. However, even they would be required to report my situation so I had a neighbor call in posing as my dad. I made sure to have all the important forms be sent to them by mail. Easier to forge signatures when you're at home." Reid gave a small, sheepish smile despite Hotch's clear disapproval over the devious tactic. "I made sure the neighbor explained that the nurse wouldn't see anyone else home because my 'dad's' job took him all over the place and that I was in college one state over. It went well for the most part; I never actually saw any of the nurses sent to my mom until later down the line when I was 17." His eyes became dark. "I always called ahead when I was heading home so they knew I was coming." He ended, using the same tone he had that night in car.

"What happened when you were 17?" Hotch asked already knowing something must have happened for him to gain that look.

"My mom called me. She hates telephones- thinks the governments recording our conversations- so I knew it had to be serious if she actually made the effort to call me." Cognac eyes became hard.

"What did she say?" Hotch prodded softly.

"S-she was crying." Reid choked out, clearly seeing her image in his head. "She kept asking for me- Daniel- to come home. Apparently dad was getting worse. She was afraid he was going to kill her."

"Her delusions were becoming worse about him?" Hotch guessed.

"No." Reid hissed venomously. "I had already informed the agency that they were possible and to just do their best, but I knew something was off. One, it wasn't near the time she usually had them and for another, she sounded even more terrified than usual. That was enough for me to skip class and catch the next plane down. Good thing I did because, because-" By this time he was so worked up he was having a hard time breathing.

"Spencer, Spencer, breathe." Hotch coaxed as he shot around his desk and kneeled next to his distraught subordinate, gently rubbing circles on the young man's back to calm him down. When Reid calmed down enough to speak again, his words were a raspy whisper.

"The agency had sent over a male nurse. He must of thought that because she was crazy, no would notice-or care- if he had a little 'fun' with her. After all, who cares if a schizo gets raped? It's not like they're all there." Reid spat out, no doubt repeating verbatim thoughtless words he had heard from people who had no clue what they were talking about.

"Did he-?" Hotch didn't finish the sentence as it suddenly clicked into place why Reid had been so angry when they had that case involving a mentally ill woman keeping real people to replace her lost dolls.

He had seen part of his own mother's situation replayed before him in another girl.

"No. He had tried, obviously, but my mom's never been one to take things lying down. When I finally made it home, he had already left but the house was in shambles. It was clear there had been a struggle. I found my mom hiding in the bathroom. It was the only room that had a lock and no window." Reid shook his head and looked helplessly at his boss.

"I could hear her crying through the door. When I finally convinced her to come out, her eyes were completely red and the whole left side of her face was bruised. She was holding a frying pan though, so I'm assuming she got in some good hits of her own."

"You never saw her attacker?" Hotch asked, surprised.

"No." Reid shook his head. "The company keeps track of where nurses are assigned. I took pictures of her injuries and went down to the office myself to see him fired and locked up. I was a bit worried-it was a sane man's word against hers but as it turns out, there were several other families there for the exact same reason- and person. By the time I had come, he had already been picked up by the cops."

"I take it he was convicted."

"I never went to the trial, but I heard he pleaded guilty." Reid admitted. "With seven families who'd never even met each other claiming the same story, it's kind of hard to deny. Especially with all the physical evidence against him. I wasn't the only one who took pictures. My mom wasn't even asked to testify."

"I take he's not out yet."

"Nope." Reid answered, popping his 'p'. "Every time he tries for an appeal, it's denied. I think one of the families has a lawyer. It did teach me a lesson though: after that, I made sure to have a background check on every nurse considered for my mom and made sure they were female. I requested that the first time but it was denied." Reid stated darkly. "I was more or less told to take what I could get."

"Did you sue the agency?" Hotch asked. Lord knows he would have gone after every penny they had for not doing better backgrounds on their employees.

"Didn't need to. They knew they wouldn't win in court and offered each family a hefty settlement for any emotional and/or physical damages. Definitely didn't stay with them after it happened. Actually," Reid sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair. "By the time it was all over, I had turned 18 and had my mom moved to Bennington."

"Did you use the settlement money to help pay for it?" Even though Hotch had never looked to see how much it cost, he knew it had to be expensive. Especially a top-notch facility like Bennington.

"It was the one I was most comfortable with. Dr. Norman was a well known name in the psychology field and all his staff came up clean. Not only that but the female employee's rate was higher than the male."

"You did a background check on all the staff?" Hotch asked incredulously.

"From the janitors to the cooks to the doctors." Reid replied seriously. "After what happened I wasn't going to take the chance. I still have background checks conducted, even better since Garcia's willing to do it for free."

"Reid. . ." Hotch trailed off, unsure what to say.

"I know it sounds like I'm overreacting," Reid admitted shamelessly. "But thanks to my persistence, several people that somehow managed to hide some despicable actions off their background checks were found out and removed before any damage could be done."

"Did this case bring a lot of these memories back?" Hotch asked and Reid gave a helpless shrug at the question.

"They never left but it certainly brought them up to the top. And Hotch, that's ok." For the first time since he had been called in, Reid gave Hotch a true smile. "Did a lot of those mothers share some characteristics with mine? Did I have a similar childhood as some of those kids? Yes to both and that's ok because, Hotch, it's all over with; my mom's safe, the kids are safe and back with their families. There's no reason to be sad now."

"But. . ." For once, Hotch was at a loss for what to say.

"Y'know Hotch, my mom still doesn't know that I'm aware of what happened to her when she was young. I don't mind; she protected me from Michaels and in turn I did my best to protect her from her memories. I suppose that's the darkest stain of love: holding onto the burdens your loved ones don't think you know about."

"You're right Reid; you always are." As silence descended over them, Reid began to twitch in his seat.

"Is that all, sir?"

"Yes." Hotch smiled slightly at his antsy agent.

"Then, can I be excused? There's a Star Wars special on the Sci-fi channel that I really want to-"

"You can go Reid. Have a good weekend." Hotch told him with a smile as the younger shot out of his chair.

"Thanks Hotch! See you Monday!" Reid replied over his shoulder as he left the office, shutting the door behind him.

For several moments, Hotch simply stood in the middle of his office with his eyes closed, taking in everything. Giving a deep sigh, he walked over to his desk and opened the top drawer. After a few moments of digging, he found what he was looking for; an old, faded photograph of him with his mother and Sean. It was the only he could recall where all three of them had worn true smiles and had no bruises to hide.

"The darkest stain of love, huh?" He wondered out loud with a chuckle, pulling out his phone and dialing a number still looking down at the photo.

Three rings later and a voice answered.

"Hey mom, just wanted to call and see how you were doing. . ."

**End.**

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><p><strong>AN: The idea just came and I couldn't leave it alone. I apologize if this brought up bad memories for anyone, that wasn't the intention. **

**I hope you guys enjoyed it! **


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